When Everything Goes Wrong, Some Things Go Right
by Myster M
Summary: The boys are in high school and Cartman does something so unforgivable he's landed himself in juvie. Butters sticks by his side through it all, but will Cartman begin to suspect his reasons? Rated M for later chapters. Crap summary, sorry. Don't like, don't read.


"You are found to be guilty on all counts. You will forthwith be sentenced to spend the remaining year until your eighteenth birthday in South Park Juvenile Detention Center." The judge took off his glasses and looked at the boy standing before him. "I know that what you did was in defense of your friends and for that reason I am sorry that I must pass this sentence, however lightened it may have been. You will have a chance for parole in six months with good behavior. Case dismissed." He banged his gavel and walked through the door to his office.

Eric Cartman stood staring in disbelief after the judge. A year of juvie? He could hardly believe it! After all the horrible things he had done in his life, how was it that protecting his friends was the reason he was finally locked away?

"Dude, that is so totally fucked up," Stan Marsh muttered from his seat at the back of the courtroom. "Fatass saves us and gets punished for it. What the hell, man? He's a fucking hero."

"Stan, he killed three people," his friend Kyle Broflowski said, standing and starting to pull on his coat.

"And saved four," Butters Stotch growled, glaring at the redhead. "You included. Or have you forgotten that little fact?" He swiped a hand across his cheek, rubbing away his tears.

"Cool it, Butters," Kenny McCormick mumbled through his coat. "Kyle didn't mean it like that. He's just saying, Cartman fucking killed people. That's against the law and he had to pay for it somehow. The law's a bitch."

"He killed them to save us!" Butters said, voice rising. Others in the courtroom were looking at the boys now. "How is this in any way fair? It's not, that's how!"

"Butters, shut up and get your faggot ass over here before they cart me off," Eric yelled at him from the front of the courtroom. Butters gulped and did so, hopping over the divider and coming to a stop to stare up at his friend.

"Stop fucking crying, dude," Eric ordered. "It's fine. You assholes are all fine so I guess it's fucking worth it. Least it is if you promise that you won't fucking forget to visit. Swear to God, Butters, you better fucking visit me."

"Ah will, Eric," he promised, rubbing his eyes on his sleeve. "Every weekend ah swear. Geez, ah'll walk if ah have to."

"Faggot," Cartman muttered, though without any real ire. The guard started to lead him away, but after a moment's hesitation he turned and pulled Butters into a rough hug before shoving him away and practically running out of the courtroom.

* * *

><p>"Like, oh my gawd, like, is it really true that Cartman, like, <em>stabbed<em> a bunch of people and got sent to a mental institution?" a redhead Butters had never spoken to before stopped to ask him as he bought his lunch at school the next day.

"Like, no Shirley, I totally heard that he beat them to death with his lacrosse stick," her friend said conspiratorially. "That's the real truth, right?"

"Don't answer them, Butters," Stan growled, glaring at the girls. "They have no fucking clue what they're on about. Get lost, bitches." They gave offended gasps and stalked off, muttering angrily and darting glares over their shoulders at the boys.

"Gossiping cunts," Kenny mumbled venomously. Kyle said nothing, just picked up his plate and led the way to their table.

Butters plonked his tray down and sat, poking morosely at his food. He hadn't been able to eat since the sentencing the day before.

"Hey, you're going with Cartman's mom this weekend right?" Stan asked his friend through a mouthful of peas. "Ask him if he needs anything. If I can get him games or books or whatever, I'll try."

"Ah'll tell him," Butter smiled.

"Ooh, Kyle, maybe you can get your mom to make him brownies or some shit and Butters can bring it with," Stan continued, poking his best friend in the arm with his fork. "I bet that'd be hilarious, him eating them all and then telling him Mrs. Broflowski made them. Gawd, I'd pay to see the look on his face!"

"Shut up, asshole," Kyle hissed. "I'm not giving that bastard shit. He can rot in jail for all I care."

In two seconds flat, Butters had jumped over the table and knocked Kyle backwards on to the cafeteria floor. He sat on his chest and grabbed the front of the redhead's shirt, pulling him up so he was inches from his face.

"You ungrateful little shit! He saved your sorry ass when he didn't have to lift a fucking finger! You're not his favorite person either, boy howdy. He didn't have to come get you. But he did and so the least you can do is have some god. Damn. Fucking. Respect!" he screamed, punctuating his last words by slamming Kyle's back into the floor.

"Dude, fucking chill!" Stan yelled, pulling Butters off the other boy. "What the fuck, man? You know Kyle and Cartman fucking hate each other, why the hell would you think it would've changed?"

Butters stood panting and shaking, unable to reply as Stan helped Kyle off the floor. The crowd that had gathered slowly dispersed when they realized there wouldn't be any more violence.

Kyle sat down again and sighed. "Look Butters, I'm sorry. I've hated the guy since preschool, what can I say? This doesn't change shit in my eyes. But this obviously means a hell of a lot more to you than I thought, so I'll try and keep my hatred to myself, deal?"

Butters nodded tightly.

Kenny stood and stretched, not having moved an inch while the mini fight went down. He wrapped an arm around Butters' neck and hauled him off down the hall to the boys' restroom, checking each of the stalls before locking the entrance. Pulling his hood off, he leaned against the nearest wall and crossed his arms.

"What do you want, Kenny," Butters sighed tiredly. He knew he should probably take the situation more seriously, since the other boy was very self-conscious about the scars on his face, scars he never explained how he received, and as such only removed his hood when he deemed the situation severe enough. But Butters knew what Kenny wanted and truly did not feel like explaining himself.

"Dude what the fuck is going on with you?" Kenny demanded. "You are the least violent person I know. Yet like two minutes ago you nearly ripped Kyle's throat out. What the fuck do you think I want? I want to know what the hell happened to you."

"Drop it, Kenny," Butters growled and tried to leave but Kenny blocked his path. "Move, asshole!"

"No. Tell me why the fuck you're defending Cartman so much all of a sudden. I can understand it a bit cause of what he did but you're taking it to a whole nuther level."

"Look," Butters sighed. "It's just something that happened between me and Eric, Kenny. Ah can't tell you, it's private. Ah'll apologize to Kyle, all right?"

Kenny was silent, still staring at him with narrowed eyes. Finally he rubbed the bridge of his nose and pushed off from the wall.

"Butters, I'm not asking you to apologize. I'm just trying to help you. We went through something absolutely horrible and you seem to be the worst affected by it. You're my friend, dude. If I can help, lemme know."

Butters patted Kenny on the shoulder. "Thanks, Kenny. Ah'll be all right. Ah'm just worried about Eric. Ah think ah'll be fine once ah see he's ok."

* * *

><p>"Leopold Stotch," the guard called. Butters stood, fidgeting with his fingers as he was led into the visitor's room. Cartman sat at a tiny plastic table in the corner, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently as he watched Butters walk toward him.<p>

"It's about time, faggot," he snarled as Butters sat down across from him. "I thought you were going to be here on Friday! What day is it? IT'S SUNDAY," he shouted, earning him dirty looks from the others in the lounge.

"Ah'm sorry, Eric," Butters mumbled, looking at the table. "Mah mom wouldn't bring me until today and your mom was busy."

"So much for 'I'll walk if I have to!' Wasn't that you who said that?"

"Ah'm sorry!" Butters cried, tears filling his eyes. "Ah'll come twice next week, ah promise!"

"You'd fucking better," Cartman growled. "It's so fucking boring here. Please tell me you downloaded Angry Birds on your phone before you got here."

Butters handed his phone over and Cartman buried himself in the game.

"Are you…doing all right, Eric?" Butters asked quietly. Cartman glanced up for a moment and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm fine, Butters. I've been here before remember? This time I'm the big cheese in the joint." Cartman sighed. "Should be worried about yourself," he muttered.

Butters' eyes widened. "What? Why?"

Cartman stared at him. "What the hell do you mean why? You know why!"

"Ah'm not the one being punished for no good reason, Eric," Butters said softly. "Ah'm fine. All I care about is you, just like always."

Cartman put the phone down slowly. "Excuse me?"

Butters gulped. "You're mah best friend, Eric, that's all ah meant, honest!"

Cartman stood, picked up his chair, and sat it down very close to Butters. He put his face very close to the other boy's and stared at him hard.

"Butters I want you to be very honest with me right now," he whispered. "Are you, or have you ever been, in love with me?"

"Everyone, visiting hours are now over!" a guard called from the door. Butters heaved an audible sigh of relief and stood but Cartman grabbed his arm.

"I expect an answer next week, dude," he said seriously. "Don't think I'll just forget. And download Candy Crush too."

Butters walked as quickly as he could to the door without running. He glanced back over his shoulder once to see Cartman still staring at him, a small, yet somehow sad smile on his face.


End file.
